Unless You Sing
by Heather11
Summary: Set during The Client. They sway, I swoon.


Disclaimer: I have nothing at all to do with The Office. I only wish I did.  
Set during "The Client" and it's **all **about the swaying. Thanks to Tlace for the beta!

* * *

**Unless You Sing**

"You have new music?"

"Yeah."

She holds out her hand to me and smiles. The smile that kills me ten different ways.

"Definitely," I say, not bothering to hide the huge, idiotic grin on my face.

I hand her the other earbud and I try not to stare as she places it in her ear. I try not to notice when she moves closer to me. I try not to inhale the scent of _her_, but her hair, which is two inches below me, smells like something really…fantastic. It isn't exactly flowery or fruity…it's unique and awesome. It's her. Pam.

I know I'm being _that_ guy. That guy that doesn't care that the girl already has a guy. But can you blame me? You tell me how to not love this girl and I'll give it a shot because so far? Nothing has worked. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Of course, standing here, sharing music, both of us just sort of moving to the song…that doesn't _exactly_ help with not loving her. She must like it. She's swaying and nodding her head.

I will never not listen to Travis again.

This isn't fair.

Standing here, having her be so close and not being able to just reach…right…out. It just isn't fair.

And tonight was so great. Like a date, even. I wonder what she would think of that. Maybe I'll casually ask her tomorrow. Just like I do everyday. I keep everything casual when everything regarding her is anything but. I'll ask her.

Why?

Because I'm a glutton for punishment.

Because I'm a glutton for her.

She stayed late. Roy went home and she actually stayed. Next to me at the conference table. And then after, long after we were all done mocking Michael's script, she still stayed. Doesn't that mean something? Anything? More than the fact that I might be reading more into this than I should? But I do that. It's what I do.

But, honestly, Roy comes, she sends him home and she stays…with me and we eat together and we watch Dwight…sorry, Dwigt and Kevin play with fireworks…which if I had been thinking clearly and it was anyone _but _Dwight, I would have nipped it in the bud. But as it was, she sat next to me again and there was a candle and my amazing grilled cheese and she told me she couldn't remember the last time someone made her dinner. And I'm not supposed to react to that? Or think more of it? When all I could think was that I would make her dinner every single night… for the rest of our lives.

But I can't say these things, not for lack of wanting, because if I could, I would. Like right now, actually, because right now is perfect and it would be even better if I dipped my head a few inches and kissed her. I could just kiss her and whisper against her lips how I would love her like no one ever had before, that I would take care of her and treat her the way she should be treated and –

"Thanks," she says and I have to shake my head to clear it. She's holding out the little bud that just thirty seconds ago connected us. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh, you didn't hear? I quit. I'm going to Hollywood to try and option a really fantastic screenplay," I say with a smile as I take the earphone from her and try to suppress the shiver that runs through me when my fingers graze hers.

"Nice try, Halpert. You'll never quit."

"Yeah, you're right," I agree, nodding knowingly and I think I'll never quit **you**, Beesley. But there are no words, just silence. It's always silent.

"Besides, finder's keepers and that bad boy is all mine," she tells me and she tries to be so serious and it's adorable and then she laughs at herself and I think I just fell even more in love with her.

She waves at me and walks away but I can't have her leave. Not yet.

"So, tomorrow, I'm thinking maybe a little game of annoy the Dwigt," I call out to her, hoping all desperation in my voice is gone.

She twirls around to look at me and says, "I already have that penciled in from 9 to 5."

She winks and finishes her spin and I can do nothing but watch her get into her car and drive away.

I replace the earphone in my ear and I have an overwhelming desire to write a letter to Apple to let them know how much I enjoy their product.

* * *

I'm thrilled to be leaving. I can't believe how late it is and I wonder if Roy's event waiting up for me. I see Jim through the glass doors and I have the very distinct feeling that he _is _waiting for me.

"You have new music?" I ask and he tells me yes. I hold out my hand and he smiles at me. That smile that makes every morning just a little bit better because, yeah, I work at Dunder Mifflin. Smiles are hard to come by and Jim has…really great…teeth.

"Definitely," he answers and hands me the extra ear piece. As I place it in my ear and hear the opening strings of music that I know I've heard trickling out of his speakers at work before. I move closer to him and I'm not even sure why.

I feel like I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be this close, not close enough to smell him. But it's such a pleasant smell. Not like Roy's Brut or Michael's knock-off Draakar. Jim doesn't smell like any kind of cologne. It's soap and detergent and something else under all that, and I suppose that it's him. Just Jim. And I feel my knees go a little weak but I continue to bob my head to the music because I don't want him to see that I'm having trouble standing this close to him.

I shouldn't be having problems with my knees…or have that flipping of my stomach…or that fast beating of my heart…for anyone other than Roy and yet…

I want to look at him. But I'm afraid to. What if I see something there and I can't stop myself? I can't help but think of that night…the Dundies night when I drunkenly kissed him and when I was going to ask him if he…

I need to stop thinking about that night. I need to get away from this situation. But…he made me dinner. And we mocked Michael, which is _always_ fun and tonight was pretty perfect. And now we're listening to this song and I like what it says but I don't like the way it makes me feel because I don't feel like singing. Not anymore…and I don't even want to think about what that means.

And, God, he's so close to me. Just standing right there and he's so tall and I feel so comfortable and not like he's looming over me like I do sometimes with Roy. He's there and I feel…safe and at ease and I'm completely petrified by that. I wonder if he can hear my heart because I can't even hear the song anymore.

I look up at him through my lashes. That's safe. And I catch my breath because he looks so peaceful and there's a small smile on his lips and he seems so content.

And that frightens me, too.

Because if I just moved an inch closer and went up on my toes, I could kiss him. I could. And I wouldn't be drunk and I wouldn't have to pretend it didn't happen. I could kiss him and thank him for dinner. Thank him for being my friend. Thank him for making me feel like I am the most special girl in the world.

Just one inch forward and two inches up and my life could change.

I lean in and in my ear I hear nothing. It startles me back to reality and I quickly remove it from my ear.

I exhale, slowly, gathering myself and say, "Thanks."

I think I've surprised him and he shakes his head and frowns…I think it is supposed to be a smile but it just doesn't quite make it.

I tell him I'll see him tomorrow and he makes a crack about quitting which will never happen. I hope. What would I do if he quit? What would I do if he weren't across from me every day? Who would challenge me at Sudoku and Freecell? Who would torment Dwight with me?

I tell him that he's never quitting because if I tell him that, if I say it out loud, maybe it will actually happen and he tells me I'm right and there's a look on his face that breaks my heart a little. He looks like he knows that he is going to work at Dunder Mifflin for the rest of his life and he hates that fact. I hate it, too, but if he's there, it's okay. And I know it's selfish of me but I don't care. I'm not selfish about many things in my life.

I joke that the script is mine and I giggle when he makes a face like I just took away his one last hope…which, normally, wouldn't be funny but Jim just has this way of making me laugh, no matter what. It's a really nice feeling.

I wave as I walk away towards my car, not wanting to say goodbye. Wanting just to keep that moment fresh and not ruin it because I know when I get in my car and I'm driving home that this feeling will wane and I will make myself forget how great I felt. It's easier for me to do it this way.

"So, tomorrow I'm thinking of a little game of annoy the Dwigt."

I love that he said Dwigt.

I turn to look at him and tell him in my most professional of manners that I already have it planned and he smiles like I've just said the best thing and I wink because it seemed like the thing to do.

I get in my car and I sit for a minute. I look in my CD holder and quickly pull out the mix CD that Jim had made for me. I put it in the player and close my eyes as I hear the familiar music of the first song.

I drive away and look at Jim in my rearview mirror. I see that he's still standing in the same spot and he's smiling.

And I don't want to think about how happy that makes me so I turn up the stereo and let the music wash over me.


End file.
